The Bishop and the Butterfly: Murder, Politics, and the End of the Jazz Age

Personal Information

Superpowers
Defies gravity Can spit really far Almost touch my toes Can cut a fly's legs off with a beer cap from 20 paces Know how to say useless stuff and prattle on in a dozen languages Don't know when to shut up
Favorite Quotes
To be for or against the Plague, it's much the same thing. Fiddledee, how a body shure do get around - just 2 weeks ago I was in Mississippi and now I'm all the way to Tennessee... Eat or Be Eaten Better to be pissed off than pissed on.
Biography
Born in swaddling clothes (designer, of course) at the confluence of big waters, my first recorded words were "Dad, can I have the keys to the car?" Raised a Southern Pedestrian, my musical talents were recognized at an early age, leading to my being exiled to the shed out back with a stack of books that became my eddykayshun - advanced readin', writin' & ritmytick, creating a major quandary of "what will I do, oh what will I do?" (Gunslinger) As an old black man advised in song, "You Gotta Move", so move I did, traveling the byways sideways even a lot of driveways, picking up sticks and psychological tics, even movin' to Beverlee through a quaint misunderstanding of the seriousness of TV series, until finally I blew up so big the carry nation incarnation tarnation couldn't hold me no more, so I fixed my sights on yonder sitar, and like Queequeg and Paul Bowles and one of those abducted kids by the Pied Piper of Hamelin, I ventured forth to the larger world, pickin' and grinnin', doin' me some reckonin' and naughts from naughts, occasionally rightin', building me some buildings and wiring and just trying to understand the babble comin' out of people's mouths and heads, I finally ended up in what Rummy quaintly calls "New Europe", which ain't so new from what I sees, but that pit in my stomach from lack-of-moving-sickness finally disappeared, and instead I sit behind a whopping big desk stacked with missives from all the chiefs with big whampum around the world telling me "what's going on". Which seems like a load of boolshit to me, but I guess that's what keeps me busy and entertained now, separatin' the weeds from the chapstick. So my name is Perry Keys, or Peracles to you, and since my mammy always said, "say please and thank you", I added the please, but I'm holdin' back on that thankee until I feel you've earned it. But do welcome, and I hope we's a gonna have a real good time. It all starts with, "I wuz born a poor young white chile livin' in the South..." and we cycle through again, like Nietzsche and his infernal regurgence. So enjoy, and let's spin a spell...

Campaign Thoughts (pt 3)

How short is the typical American's memory? Which details affect it more - a debate, a Saturday Night Live spoof, a policy speech, a partisan attack, a new round of scandal...? And which affect voting?

Trade in Places: Nissan v Tesla

Aside from politicized malfeasance, the last few days have also seen 2 contrasts in trade and business.

Elon Musk announced his intent to vote on merging his Tesla car company with SolarCity new energy, once again mesmerizing us with his audacity in rolling out new concepts and prototypes - Hyperloop, Gigafactory, and of course SpaceX. But it's not all hoops and mirrors - Tesla turned its first profit this quarter, despite all the risks. Amazon in comparison has taken years to turn eyeballs/user base into a profit, despite pioneering cloud computing and other distribution breakthroughs.

Bill Clinton is not Bill Cosby nor Donald Trump

CNN's front column this morning jumps into the Comey/FBI fray by saying Hillary brought this one upon herself - if she'd just used proper State Department servers, none of this witchhunt would have ever happened. As Bill Cosby used to say, "Riiiggghtttt". Even now, the Bill & Hillary "Body Bags" count has been extended to 4 more lame ties to "suspicious" deaths of somehow DNC-related people - pimped on by Wikileaks, of course.

Year of the Dick

In the year that was primed to be either the Revolution or the Year of the Woman (aka Breaking the Glass Ceiling Part 2), we'd deviated into the Year of the Pussy - and lots of it - grabbing, bragging, bleeding, breeding - especially with the Republican candidates misadventures in misogyny coming up along with the expected parade of Bill's women brought to bear.

And just when it seemed like both Michelle Obama and the alliance of Nasty Woman would reclaim the word, claim the higher ground, we get our delayed October Non-Surprise - once again, as promised, or "same as it always is", meet the Dicks.

Campaign Thoughts (pt 2)

Did Bill pave Hillary's way to the White House? His impeachment didn't help, nor overall did his affairs/accusers, triangulation along with NAFTA & the crime bill have haunted her as once did Whitewater and her failed attempt at health care. And then there's the Iraq vote & Libya invasion on her own. Thinking back on it, it's a bit hard to figure out how she even got here. (Hint: she's a process person)

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